Blood in Dreams
by Saki4
Summary: Aragorn is disturbed by recurring dreams of Legolas. *slash*


_Disclaimer:_ Do not own anything. All bow down to JRR Tolkien. Thank you Peter Jackson for the lovely visuals. __

_AN:_ This is slash. Don't like, don't read. 

_Warnings/Rating:_ A little violence. 

Feedback and constructive criticism are appreciated. Flames are funny. 

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**Chapter 1**

Legolas had been next to him, flashes of steel caught in the moonlight above as those elven knives danced with deadly precision. Aragorn butchered two orcs simultaneously to their demise, then briefly turned towards his lover. They always did that - often fighting along side each other, and one would check how the other was faring at regular intervals. The man saw the prince stabbing an orc between the eyes with one hand, while piercing another in the heart with the sharp tip of his arrow. He smiled inwardly to himself in reassurance and continued hacking another Uruk-hai's head off in one clean movement. 

But then something happened that he never imagined could come into pass. The man turned around just in time to witness a scene that would forever be embedded into memory. A fallen Uruk-hai that had lain at the elf's heels started to slowly wake up. Legolas had been distracted by trying to fend off three other orcs at the same time. He didn't see the Uruk-hai stand up on wavering legs behind him. He didn't see the malicious long blade, which the hand still gripped with newly resolved strength. The three other orcs had noticed that one of their more powerful comrades was advancing silently behind the elf with bloodthirsty intent. Trying to be as subtle as possible, they began to back away while still continuing to clash swords with the doomed prince. 

Legolas snarled as he felt the orcs stepping away from him. He wanted to kill them all - each and every one of them. Yes, they used to be one of his kindred, but not anymore. They could never revert back to the beings they were before the dreadful transformation. Now it was almost blasphemy to remember how these disgusting creatures used to be one of the fair Firstborns of Middle-Earth. Orcs were hateful, despicable beings, and the only creatures elves showed no mercy towards. To those who didn't know the prince, it was a rather shocking sight to witness the normally gentle elf show his side of brutality in battle, like the way he was now. 

Then he saw one of them seem to look at something behind him. In a final moment of clarity, he realized why the other orcs had slowed down their swordplay with him. They knew the elven prince was going to fall this night. At this very moment, as a matter of fact. And Legolas had found out that fact just a little too late. 

One of them smiled with undisguised pleasure. It was at that moment Legolas swerved around, which was exactly what the foul Uruk-hai behind him had expected to happen. 

Aragorn watched the entire sequence rooted on the spot. It seemed to his hazy mind that the characters involved was acting out the scene in extremely slow motion. He didn't know why his feet couldn't move when his mind screamed at them to. He couldn't understand why he simply stood where he was, his sword clenched tightly in his bloody hand, yet he was unable to do anything. At a later time, he would ask himself why he didn't aid his lover. 

He saw the Uruk-hai thrust his sword into Legolas' armoured chest. The prince's eyes widened with shock, never expecting such a thing could happen. His long white elf-knives slipped out of his weakened hands. He dropped to his knees, grasping the hilt of the sword sticking out of his bloodied chest as if to reassure himself the instrument was real, that this was really happening. 

Aragorn saw Legolas give out a soundless scream - his lips were parted in a big round O but no sound issued forth. His Ranger eyes didn't deceive him when he noticed the end tip of the blade was sticking out of his fallen lover's back either. That meant the sword must have gone all the way through. 

"Legolas!" 

No. _No_. NO! 

Aragorn felt a madness stir within him and he began to scream. And scream and scream and scream... 

***** 

Aragorn jerked upright in bed, his pulse racing painfully and beads of sweat soaked the bed sheets. 

There had been blood... blood all over his hands, arms and chest when he held the corpse that had once been his beautiful, animated lover in his arms. Silvery bright red was the blood of elves, their water-light consistency never ceasing to faintly shock him. There seemed to be something unnatural about the thinness of such blood. He was used to the thick, slimy feel of mortal blood. 

"Estel!" 

The man whipped his head around, breathing erratically and there was still that wild glazed look in the dark eyes. He grasped the startled elf who had woken up to the commotion and was now sitting up next to him on the bed. 

"I had that dream again!" he whispered forcefully. "I can't seem to help it... 'tis the same one played over and over in my mind! How this tortures me so! Why cannot I rest my body without worrying what the night will bring?" 

Legolas eyed his lover with an unreadable expression. Aragorn had been suffering certain nightmares for a while now, and so he wasn't entirely shocked by tonight's episode. The detailed descriptions that the man could hauntingly remember, and the fact that he kept having the exact same visions was uncanny enough. However, dreams were not usually a matter of great concern for they ceased to exist outside the playground of the mind. If Aragorn's recurring dream had been somewhat different, Legolas would have jested his lover instead. 

But what made the whole issue disquieting was the actual content of the dream. It was like Aragorn had foreseen a fate... the prince's future death. 

The elf silenced the involuntary touch of unease snaking through him. 

"Hush beloved," he breathed into the Ranger's ear as he pulled him close. "You are with me now... that is all that matters." 

He cradled Aragorn's damp head and kissed the top of the dark locks. Aragorn clung to him while his quivering body started to relax in the quiet warmth of the embrace. 

"Yes Legolas, you are with me now... and I am with you always..." he murmured into Legolas' chest and he closed his eyes while inhaling the elf's familiar scent. He felt so safe and never wanted to be anywhere else in the Middle-Earth... reaching out, he fingered a strand of gold and looked up into a pair of tense elven eyes. "But I cannot stop the feeling of foreboding in my heart. It pains me to death to hear the whispers in my head that the dream is a warning to me... to you and to us... that-that-" 

Aragorn could not quite go on and held onto his lover tighter. He continued. 

"Legolas, if anything should happen to you, I would never forgive myself, nor would I have the will to live and fight anymore!" 

Legolas' eyes glittered like stars reflected on the smooth surface of a lake. "No, do not utter such a thing!" he almost hissed. "You shall not die in vain Estel, and... and neither shall I. These dreams - I cannot say what they are or why they do not stop, but my love, you need not concern yourself. You must rest your weary heart." But even as he planted a loving kiss of comfort on the man, his voice did not sound very convincing. The ears of Strider within the future King picked it up immediately. 

"What do you do think of these... premonitions?" he asked softly. 

Legolas stifled a sharp intake of breath. He unwrapped his arms from the man and placed both hands on either sides of his face, pulling him close and gazing into troubled eyes. "No one, not even those who are great and wise, can exactly foresee what will or will not come to pass. Though I admit these dreams of yours are rather unusual, I would not want you to go mad because of them!" 

He firmly placed one of Aragorn's trembling hands over his heart. The man felt the life-force of his lover under the touch. 

"See?" the elf whispered. "My heart beats for you and only for you... nothing can and will separate us." He leaned forward and caught the man's lips in his own. Aragorn surrendered to the tantalizing touch and sighed as he kissed the elf back. 

_Nothing can and will separate us... not even death._

Long after Aragorn had finally fallen asleep, Legolas lay wide awake staring at the ceiling above the bed. Dread and anguish burned through him. 

_I do not want to worry Aragorn, for he is tormenting himself enough... but why can I not stop feeling like something's going to happen?_

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__TBC 


End file.
